


Yesterday

by MrsNazarioWrites



Series: The Edge of the World [9]
Category: Choices (Visual Novel), Choices - Fandom, Choices - Stories you play, Perfect Match (Visual Novel), Pixelberry - Fandom, Play Choices, PlayChoices
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Don't copy to another site, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Heavy Angst, Romance, Suspense, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 04:43:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20383876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsNazarioWrites/pseuds/MrsNazarioWrites
Summary: Maya has a long-overdue conversation with Alana in their cell . . . and then some very hard truths to throw at Dexter. Meanwhile, the rest of the gang infiltrate the docks. Will they make it through undetected?





	Yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> Perma-note: Dames’ name is Dexter in this series. I’d already named him before Book 2 came out so I’m keeping it that way here

** _You’re determined by faith, you pretend to make up_ **  
** _You lay out your case like the enemy_ **  
** _But all that you got, through dirty white lies_ **  
** _You find the damn correct way of blaming me for your crimes_ **

** _Won’t you talk to me? Don’t walk or run away._ **  
** _I’m onto you . . . yesterday . . . (with empty eyes)_ **

—————————–

The silence inside was stifling, save for Rowan and Cecile’s argument echoing in muffled yells through the metal walls. The cargo container Maya and Alana were currently shut in allowed for plenty of leg room, but at the moment, both of them were situated in corner, trying to gather as much as they could from the conversation outside; grabbing at bits and pieces of their words to get a clue as to what would come next. Nothing special seemed to come of it besides more vengeful, grandiose declarations.

At least until one name stood out to them.

_Khaan. _Maya glanced sideways and met Alana’s gaze.

“Does that name ring a bell for you?” the agent whispered.

Maya shook her head, biting her lip. “Nope. Never heard of him.”

“If this guy is so important to them, I wonder why he hasn’t shown up yet.”

As the voices outside died down, she sat back and took a deep breath which only seemed to tighten her nerves as her mind was bombarded with numerous theories. All she’d been able to get from this was that for some reason, they desperately needed this ‘Khaan’ guy to advance their Siren project. But what did that have to do with her and Damien? Wasn’t this whole thing supposed to be a ploy to recapture their group?

Then her mind shifted back to him as it often had throughout this chaos. Harley had taken him somewhere else while she and Alana were being held separately. And given that Alana’s presence here wasn’t even the original plan-

Maya’s heart sank and she drew her knees further in. _Damien has something that they need. _She inhaled sharply and looked back to the door._ And now they have someone he needs too._

“Maya?” Alana’s calm voice came distantly to her, but she was hardly paying attention, still fixated on this new revelation. This was the only possible explanation. But as far as she knew, none of them had ever heard of Khaan. Did Damien specifically know about him? Or did he just know more than he was telling? Why would he hide it? _What the hell is going on here?!_

“Maya, look at me,” Alana said a little more loudly and Maya looked back at her, barely aware of how much she was shaking.

“What?”

“You okay?”

“I-” Maya blinked in surprise at the question. Not that that wasn’t a valid thing to ask, but more because it was _Alana_ asking. “Yeah,” she cleared her throat to try and hide how much her voice was wavering. “As fine as I can be. You?” Her eyes dropped to Alana’s lip, which was slightly coated with some dried blood.

“Oh, this?” She gave a nod, smirking. “_Please_, I’ve seen worse.” Maya nodded in acknowledgement and moved to listen through the wall when Alana spoke again. “I’ve always hated liked Paris, you know,” she mused. “It’s so damn _charming_ all the time.”

Maya quirked an eyebrow. “You have a pretty interesting definition of ‘charming’,” she said. “Cabarets and expensive bars not cutting it for you? You think this is any better?”

“What can I say?” Alana shrugged nonchalantly, barely giving away how she too, was trying to keep it together. The only indication of this was the way her foot kept tapping against the floor. “Keeps things interesting.”

Maya was about to elaborate on how dismal circumstances like this seemed like such a normal thing to her. But then a loud creaking sound jolted both of them out of their conversation as the door opened and someone walked in. The sole lightbulb hanging from the ceiling was dim enough to make out a familiar figure.

“Damien?” Maya instinctively perked up.

There was a scoff. “Afraid not.” Dexter came through the door, carrying two plastic plates of food. Alana narrowed her eyes at him as he placed one in front of her. He noted her expression and rolled his eyes, his sarcasm plain for all to hear. “I’ve tried to keep any dietary restrictions in mind, but you’re gonna have to make do with what’s here for now.”

“Riiight,” Alana said dryly, eyeing the mashed potatoes in front of her. “Slop it is, then.”

He turned to Maya, handing her the same thing while she watched incredulously. The last time she’d seen that softer look in his eyes was when they were at the Louvre checking out paintings; talking and laughing together, speculating on what she’d believed was ‘their relationship’ and future. And it had all been a lie.

Dexter had been perpetrating a ruse and Maya had fallen for it hook, line and sinker. That’s what had brought them here to begin with. It was why Nadia and her friends were stuck in god-knew-where, desperately trying to find them. It was why Alana was soon to be an not-so-official missing person.

And now it was why Damien was in danger of being hurt or _worse_.

From the start, Maya had only been trying to do something good for Hayden, for the Matches. This was just supposed to be about exposing Eros and going back home, but now everything had spiraled out of control.

And he was the reason why. As she looked into the eyes of the man who’d deceived her, all Maya could think of was one question. “Why?”

Dexter raised an eyebrow at that question, then glanced at the plate, seeming to think she was asking about the food. “It’s . . . been a long day. Thought you could use some food in the mean time.”

Maya looked at the plate then at him, narrowing her eyes, before her face contorted into a snarl and she slapped it out of his hands. Dexter’s eyes followed where she’d thrown the food. He remained stiff in place, opening and closing his fists again before taking a deep breath and then looking back at her, tilting his head meaningfully. “I think it’s in your best interest _not_ to antagonize the one guy who’s actually being nice to you for once-”

“_Please_, do you seriously think you’re doing me a _favor_ right now?!” She all but yelled in his face. “You’re the reason we’re in this situation in the first place, which brings me back to my first question: _Why?_” When Dexter didn’t answer, she piled on. “Back at the Louvre . . . you impersonated Damien, made me trust you . . . god, you even let me _kiss_ you, I-” Her voice grew thick with emotion and she broke off, having to steady herself before she could speak again. “You took advantage of me, Dexter . . . Of my feelings, my fears. How could you?”

“I- ” Dexter opened his mouth to answer, only to be silenced by the look on her face. He found himself gazing into her eyes – eyes that shone with pure hurt. She watched him expectantly as he struggled to find the words that would’ve come more easily to him many hours ago. “My job was to lead you away from the museum. It’s not personal, Maya. I was acting on Father’s-”

_“Father_– _wow_, okay excuse me while I barf.”

Dexter let out an irritated sigh. “_Mr. West’s_ orders. I have a job to do. That’s it.”

“Yeah, your actions at the forest made that abundantly clear.”

“Excuse me?”

“You stopped Harley from hurting me. Was that part of your job description?”

His eyes narrowed. “That has nothing to do with this.”

“Oh but I think it does.” Maya stood up, balancing herself in spite of the handcuffs binding her hand to the railing. “One moment you’re handing me over to Eros and then the next you’re yelling at Harley for hitting me? I can’t figure you out!” She scoffed, shaking her head. “Every time you look at me, I see him; his eyes, his face. I think of the sweet things he’d say that make me feel safe. But then I remember your hands on me. Dragging me away from the museum, holding me down while I kicked and screamed.” She pressed on, undeterred by the way he tensed. “You’re feeling it, aren’t you? The anger.”

Maya watched every tell of his that she knew matched that of Damien – the way his jaw clenched, the way his hand was shaking. “That’s how Damien felt when Rowan attacked me in the Arctic. It’s how he felt when he saw you pull me into the van. That’s how you felt when Harley did the same. And that’s why you’ve kept me away from him since then.”

“That’s- I was just trying to-” Dexter stammered for a second, then caught himself. He pointed a finger at her, glaring. “Look, no one asked you to fake a bathroom stop and then go running off into the forest. Whatever happened to piss off Harley, that’s on _you_.”

“Riiight, and I’m sure he was perfectly fine with you getting knocked on your ass by Damien’s ex-girlfriend.”

His turned a light shade of red as Alana chuckled at the remark, then threw his hands up, frustrated. “What exactly do you want from me, Maya?!”

“For starters, some honesty. You started this whole thing by lying to me and then kidnapping me on someone else’s orders. Then you suddenly start insisting that I shouldn’t be harmed, though you’ll look the other way when they hurt Alana or Damien.”

“I already told you, I don’t give a f-”

“Damien’s hands shake like that too when he’s nervous.” Maya’s reply hit him point-blank.

“That has nothing to do with this.” Dexter shoved his hands in his pocket, completely brushing her off as he stepped back.

“Bullshit!” She cried. “It has everything to do with the way you keep _looking at me_ like you suddenly want to be some kind of protector! Stop looking at me like that when you don’t even mean it!”

He barely recoiled at those words, but whoever was sitting closer to him could see that his fists were visibly bunching up in his pockets as he endeavored to keep his composure. Maya knew that with every accusation she kept throwing at him, that was probably getting harder and harder to do, and she was now playing with fire. Under normal circumstances, she’d have been a little calmer than this.

But now? She was too frustrated with her situation to care.

Dexter glared at her. “You think I want to look at you?” He fired back passionately. “That I wouldn’t rather just do my job and move on without Harley breathing down my neck? That it’s so easy for me to wonder why every time I see you cry, I feel like-” He immediately stopped and looked away, his face becoming as stony as it’d been before, but it was too late.

“W-what?”

Everything came to a standstill as Maya’s eyes widened at this random slip-up. Several seconds of uncomfortable silence passed until she finally managed to speak again.

“You feel like what?” She unconsciously stepped forward, only to be held back by her restraints. “Dexter . . .”

“It doesn’t matter,” Dexter said, shaking his head. “None of it matters. You want an answer? Fine. All of these extra feelings are the real thing.” He continued to study her as she gaped at him, clearly not having expected that. Then he quickly added, “But I’m _not_ the real thing, not _your _Damien. The sooner you accept that, the better it would be for you.”

“Dexter, it _does_ matter. Stop pretending like you don’t have a choice. You do. You’ve _always_ had a choice.”

“I don’t-”

“No, you’re wrong,” she shouted passionately. “Life is full of choices! And Matches are just as alive as humans! That makes you accountable for what you do. You chose to obey Eros, chose to deceive me, and now you’re choosing to ignore that you know this is wrong! Eros isn’t doing this anymore, Dexter! _You_ are!”

There was a flash of hurt in his eyes that immediately changed to anger. “You know what? I’ve had _enough_ of your whining,” he growled. “You wanna throw tantrums and piss off everyone you meet? It’s your funeral.” He swiftly marched over to the discarded food, scooped it back onto the plate in one swipe and then then threw it down in front of her. “Eat if you want, or go hungry. See if I care.” And with that, he strode out of the cargo container, slamming the door behind him.

Maya rolled her eyes and sat back down, fuming. She stared at the food for a few seconds, wrinkling her nose in disgust no matter how her rumbling stomach was betraying her at the this time, then looked away morosely.

Alana’s snarky comment broke the silence. “If you’re the best negotiator your group’s got, it’s no wonder you always manage to land in some sort of trouble.”

She whirled on her, irritated. “Oh sure, you’re one to talk about _negotiating_.”

Now it was Alana’s turn to roll her eyes as she picked up on the hidden meaning. “Aww, is the little princess still holding a grudge?”

“I- are you-” Maya let out an incredulous squeal. “It hasn’t even been a week! What did you expect, a heartwarming forgiveness monologue?!”

“Well, _technically_-”

“No, that doesn’t count!” She snapped. “Sticking together was what got us out of there. I stand by that, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten your role in this. And while we’re on my negotiation skills,” Maya leaned forward to emphasize her next point. “Let’s not forget that it’s _my_ sweet-talking that got Rowan to reveal his plans despite the scene you made at dinner.”

Alana’s jaw dropped and she was silent for several moments, studying her until her smirk returned. “Impressive, Maya. Looks like there’s hope for us after all, that is, if your overactive limbic system doesn’t get us in trouble.”

“Can’t be any worse the way yours did.” To her surprise, Alana laughed at the jab. Another silence passed as Maya watched her curiously, partly hating how she felt her previous anger towards the wayward agent start to soften. Then she threw out the other question that had been stuck in her head ever since that fateful day in Moscow. “Did you really think Damien would’ve thought better of you if your plan had gone through? If he’d been safe and we’d all been thrown to the wolves?” Thanks to the poor lighting inside the cargo container, Maya didn’t notice Alana’s slight flinch at her abrupt question.

“I . . . hadn’t thought things through then. I realize that now.” The agent sighed. “I didn’t know what Eros was beyond what you had all told me. When you said they were after a robot and some files, I didn’t exactly forsee . . . _this_.” She gestured to the their dingy prison. “I mean this is _dark. Really _messed up.” That flicker of emotion in her eyes was there again. “Kidnapping, replacing people, to-” Alana immediately closed her mouth before she could finish the last word. She didn’t bother to look at Maya to see if she’d picked up on it.

Maya looked down at her lap, beginning to fidget with her hands. “Then why betray us like you did?”

“I didn’t see it that way then. At the time, my only interest was in keeping Damien safe. I didn’t know you guys nor did I particularly care about you.” She sighed again. “But given the last few days since the train, I see now that you’re . . . good people. Disgustingly annoying proportions of good in fact. I suppose I can see why Damien thinks so highly of you.”

“Alana . . .” At this point, Maya couldn’t help the intrigue she felt at what was probably the first genuine interaction between them. Before, Alana had shown nothing but disdain for them, which was easy to brush off, given her shaky history with Damien. But she’d still come forward to help when she saw their situation – albeit putting on a show of wanting to help for Damien’s sake, only to throw them under the bus for that very reason.

And now it seemed that the realization was hitting Alana harder than before – that not only had she grossly misjudged the wrong people on all ends, but her actions had also ended up endangering the one person she’d truly wanted to protect. Even if it hadn’t, the way things were going now, Alana would have earned his hatred if Maya and the others had had to face this alone.

“Bringing you to Eros was a . . . bad call. If I’d known what I know now, I . . . would’ve made a different call.”

Maya’s lip twitched. “Alana Kusuma. Are you _apologizing_?” The scowl forming on Alana’s face only heightened her amusement, lifting her anxiety and encouraging her teasing even further. “You must _really_ like me. It’s _almost_ like we’re-”

“All right, don’t push it, kid.”

————————————————-

Dexter paced angrily next to the cargo container, hardly aware of the faint conversations going on nearby. At this moment, he didn’t care whether anyone would see him practically lose his composure over one girl. He had every right to be annoyed now, if not before.

He had never exactly expected Maya to be cooperative, given the circumstances, but her anger was infectious. Every time she would let loose, it caught onto someone else and would spiral into a chain reaction that would come back to him. The way she’d easily angered Rowan was evidence of that. And considering the way Cecile kept egging him on, this did _not_ bode well for anyone. This was bound to land them all in trouble if they weren’t careful. Why Maya couldn’t see that was beyond him.

What was also beyond him was why he was even concerned over this. As far as he knew, the mission was accomplished – yet every order he’d followed was starting to backfire on him. Limiting Harley’s apparent zeal for cruelty, following orders to the letter . . . Dexter had done it all, yet now it was his loyalty that was possibly being questioned.

He’d heard time and time again that it wasn’t in any Match’s best interest to cross Rowan – and he hadn’t. But after today, he couldn’t help feeling a pull toward the idea that something else was amiss. Was it from Rowan’s apparent, cold disregard for these people’s dignity? Based on what Dexter knew, Rowan at least seemed to be very attached to his creations, going as far as to consider them his ‘_children_‘.

Dexter wrinkled his nose a bit at that thought. Somehow, the label still didn’t sit well with him. He never questioned it, but that didn’t mean he welcomed it. As far as he knew, he had a mother and four sisters who he was one hundred percent sure cared for him . . . at least they would’ve if the relationship was actually real.

It wasn’t, though, nor was it his place to want that. No matter how real these details felt, they were as fake as his persona. So long as he’d accepted this, Rowan and Cecile were placated.

No, he was part of Rowan’s destiny, to carry out his vision for the Siren Project. Much like the mythical creatures of Greek lore that had brought doom to innocent sailors, he himself had charmed Maya – taking the form of her lover and charming her with sweet words, only to lead her and her friends into danger.

Sirens could wield power without lifting a finger. They were breathtaking, yet ruthless, cunning, unwavering . . . and held no remorse for their actions.

So why was he faltering now?

Dexter had done everything he was supposed to do. Eros was getting what they wanted today because of him. _His_ subtlety was why their plan had worked to begin with. He’d had, what, only a few moments of sympathy for Maya’s plight? And now while Harley got off kissing Rowan and Cecile’s prissy asses, he’d just been scolded like some small child.

_I’m _not_ a child. No one tells Damien Nazario what to-_

Dexter cut off his thoughts in realization, then balled his hands into fists. With a yell of frustration, he blindly kicked at a box nearby, watching as cracked open and its’ contents spilled everywhere.

“God fucking DAMN IT!”

—————————————————–

Nadia and Sloane were crouched behind a large pile of boxes, surveying the area. Cargo containers outlined every area of these docks, like a maze. Where Hayden and Steve were at this point was hard to guess, considering how easy it would be to get lost here and in consequence, be discovered.

Once they’d arrived at the docks, they’d spent a good few minutes surveying the area until finding a spot that wasn’t patrolled by guards. The plan was for Hayden and Steve to snatch some guard uniforms for themselves, then use the former’s similar appearance to Harley as an advantage to clear the area. Then he would lead the rest of them undetected to a better vantage point where they could plan their rescue.

Until then, the others could only wait bated breaths. Nadia clutched Dipper closely to her as they did their best to stay hidden until Hayden and Steve returned. In the distance, she could make out silhouettes, bobbing in the ocean and she could feel memories coming back that she’d rather not relive. She quickly shook her head, trying to quash down any thoughts of what Maya and her friends were going through.

_No, Nadia. No negativity allowed! We’re going to make it out of here. Period. _Though she still couldn’t resist getting one particular thought out in the open.

“Hey Sloane?” she said quietly.

“Hmm?”

“I really hate boats.”

“Agreed.”

There was a loud crash and a shout from nearby and both girls jumped. Sloane instinctively clapped her hands over her mouth as a few figures came around the corner. Dipper’s ears were straightened up and her teeth bared. She was on high alert, but to her credit, remained quiet; it was as if she’d sensed the danger her guardians were in if she made so much as a sound in front of the wrong people.

“We’re back.” Steve’s loud whisper brought relief to all of them as he and Hayden approached them, dressed in the guards’ black uniforms. Nadia stepped out of her hiding spot and approached them, beaming as Steve wrapped her in a hug, instantly evaporating her previous worry.

Sloane was smiling approvingly as she took in their appearance. “This is perfect, very convincing.” she said. “With you two dressed like that, Eros won’t even know the difference.”

“Oh they didn’t,” Hayden laughed. “Once I walked up and started barking orders, they scampered off.”

“Did you find a place?”

He nodded. “The area I cleared out has a few cargo containers we can hide in. But we need to move fast.” And with that, he began to lead everyone in a certain direction.

“By the way babe?” Nadia looked to Steve, grinning. “You’re gonna save that uniform for after we get outta here, right?” Sloane and Hayden collectively groaned and she raised her hands defensively. “What? I’m just saying . . .”

“Nadia?!” An all too familiar voice stopped them in their tracks and they whirled around, ready to face whatever threat had just come their way. They froze when they saw him. Dipper let out a low growl and Hayden tensed.

Nadia’s eyes widened and she almost lunged forward, only to be held back by Steve. Taking a deep breath, she backed down and looked back to the one who’d just intercepted them, swallowing hard.

“Damien, is that you?”

———————-

** _I don’t know where I’m going, in search for answers_ **  
** _I don’t know who I’m fighting, I stand with empty eyes_ **  
** _You’re like a ghost within me, who’s draining my life_ **  
** _It’s like my soul is see through, right through my empty eyes_ **


End file.
